Not the Sharpest Knife in the Drawer
I house sit a German Shepherd named Jameson. Jameson comes from Germany and is the largest Shepherd I've ever encountered. He's from a family of show dogs and was one inch too high to fit the standard so he was left pretty much to his own devices for the first six months of his life. Then, he was adopted by the people in Nassau and came here to keep Tequila company after Kaiser died.
Jameson is gorgeous. Had he ended up as a show dog, he would probably have won honours galore. His coat is thick and full. When he runs around the yard bringing back tennis balls, his gait is a glide, with only the paws moving. I could watch him walk like that for hours. Jameson's only drawback?
He is not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He looks intelligent but he's not. Oh, in some ways he is. All these years later and I can still get him to reply to commands in German, but in others areas, he has a lot to learn.
Jameson has a tennis ball obsession. He loves to chase thrown tennis balls. He hasn't quite figured out yet that he needs to actually let go of the ball so that you can throw it for him. He spooks at things most dogs would casually ignore. This morning, he spooked at the black garbage bag that I have over my car window. I had to walk him up to the car and show him that it was a garbage bag, not some menacing black creature from space that would steal all his tennis balls.
Jameson is now five. Before he settled into his new home, he chewed through two sofas, eight cushions, a mattress and a duvet. He continues to have severe separation anxiety. When I walk Tequila, Jameson sits in the window and howls. He howls until we reappear and then he greets us at the kitchen door acting as though we've been gone forever, when we've really only been gone about 5 minutes (Tequila is very old and cannot do long walks). You would think that after this many years, he would know that she's coming back, but no. He howls. His owners are quite concerned about what will happen when Tequila eventually dies.
So, that's Jameson. Jameson, who chomps water in a bucket instead of lapping it. Jameson, who is sure he's going to drown if he falls in the pool. Jameson, who thinks that if you're killing mosquitoes, he has to get in on the act. His favourite song? The Hamster Dance! He howls and barks whenever I play it or sing it. He is definitely not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
[This post dedicated to birdie, who, unlke Jameson, is pretty sharp, and I'm glad to call her my friend!]